


Thranduil Imagine

by elvenmystery



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Thranduil/Wife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9996908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvenmystery/pseuds/elvenmystery
Summary: Thranduil imagine.DISCLAIMER: Violent content will be found. Tissues are advised.All rights and characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson, excluding my original character(s) and plot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bring tissues if you are a sensitive reader, and please vote/comment! Feedback is a treasure to a writer!

The blistering sweat of the deep parched valley bore endlessly across the armies, turning cold at night, and hot under the naked sun. The chill resonated no feeling among the elves, but they thanked the temperamental climate their enemies cursed nonetheless.

Hidden away in the elvish camp Thranduil hoped to go unmissed a moment longer, whereas these moments would be missed by him or his wife, should something go a miss. His fingers worked with familiarity through the long bleaches of his wife's hair, amazed steadily at the care she placed into it when there never seemed an opportunity to. But elleths, he had come to realize, were supernatural when it came to manipulating time.

"Muin nín..." Thranduil broke from his thoughts to see his wife having turned to him, her expression gentle but prodding, like one she would give their son.

He smiled, abashed by his own inadvertent desire to keep her longer and finally finished his work on her hair. "Goheno nin, my mind is elsewhere." He apologized.

She stood and walked to the table where his blades lay, commenting as she went, "You may lose it than if you are not careful," She returned, slipping the blades around his waist. "And I would rather you don't force me to stick your pretty little head back on your, pretty... Broad, shoulders."

His expression was half-hearted as he looked into her eyes, like his voice. "I would worry more for you." He whispered

"Do not fear Thranduil," She smiled and reached for his hand, her voice soothing and warm. "For my own sake at least and for our peoples sake."

His gaze drifted to their interlocked fingers, thinking himself a fool to agree, but a fool in love. "For you my Princess, I will do anything."

 

 

"Dragon!" Someone screamed in the distance, causing the panic inside your heart to freeze in fear as a tyrannic wave of air toppled elves and orcs alike suddenly, followed then by a screech echoing endlessly through the valley, and then the sun became irrelevant when the dragons great shape passed over. 

The cool of the evening air fizzled away around the beast as from its mouth shot torrents of sickening black flame, killing not only elves, but orcs. The atmosphere chocked bitterly on the smoke and aroma of crisp blackened flesh. You coughed into the hand protecting your mouth against the deceased perfume you could taste in the air, your eyes watering and stinging from the smoke, but your only your husband.

Everywhere you looked there was or would be fire, and then you saw him, and the dragon. "Thranduil!" You both watched in horror as the furnace on wings released its fire straight towards him, but hearing his name he looked away from his death, his eyes scared when they met yours. It came as a blur, and suddenly you were there beside him. "I love you!" He stumbled back, and without thought you pushed him to the ground and lay over him as a shield. "I love our son!" The last thing you would ever say before the flames reached you... And you died, protecting your husband, your son, and the future of a kingdom.


End file.
